1

King. I then mov'd you, (19)

My lord of Canterbury; and got your leave
To make this prefent fummons: Unfollicited
I left no rev'rend perfon in this Court,
But by particular confent proceeded

Under your hands and feals. Therefore go on;
For no diflike i'th' world against the person
Of our good Queen, but the fharp thorny points
Of my alledged reafons drive this forward.

Prove but our marriage lawful, by my life
And kingly dignity, we are contented

To wear our mortal ftate to come, with her,
(Catharine our Queen) before the primest creature
That's paragon'd i'th' world.

Cam. So please your Highness,

The Queen being abfent, 'tis a needful fitness
That we adjourn this Court to further day;
Mean while must be an earnest motion

Made to the Queen, to call back her appeal
She intends to his Holinefs.

King. I may perceive,

Thefe Cardinals trifle with me: I abhor
This dilatory floth, and tricks of Rome.
My learn'd and well-beloved fervant Granmer,
Pr'ythee, return! with thy approach, I know,
My comfort comes along. Break up the Court:
I fay, fet on.
[Exeunt, in manner as they enter'd.

(19)

I then mov'd You,
My Lord of Canterbury, and got your Leave

To make this prefent Summons unfollicited.] Thus all the Impreffions. But thefe Sagacious Editors have palm'd a ftrange Piece of Nonfenfe upon us, from a falfe Pointing. What did the King move the Bifhop, nay, and fo move him as to get his Leave, and yet could the Summons be faid to be unfollicited? I have rescued the Text from fuch an absurd Contradiction: and, again, done it upon the Authority of honeft Holing fhead. “ I "moved it in Confeffion to You, my Lord of Lincoln, then ghoftly Father. "And forafmuch as then you yourself were in fome Doubt, you mov'd me "to ask the Counsel of all thefe my Lords. Whereupon I moved you, my "Lord of Canterbury, first to have your Licence, in as much as you were "Metropolitan, to put this Matter in Question; and fo I did of All your my Lords." Hollingshead. ibid. p. 908.

ACT

T

ACT III.

SCENE, the Queen's Apartments.

The Queen and her Women, as at Work.

O

QUEEN.

AKE thy lute, wench, my foul grows fad

with troubles :

Sing, and difperfe 'em, if thou canft: leave working.

SONG.

Rpheus with his lute made trees,
And the mountain tops, that freeze,
Bow themselves when he did fing.
To bis mufick, plants and flowers
Ever fprung, as fun and showers
There had made a lafting Spring.
Ev'ry thing that heard him play,
Ev'n the billows of the fea,

Hung their beads, and then lay by.

In fweet mufick is fuch art,

Killing care, and grief of heart

Fall afleep, or bearing die.

Queen. How now?

Enter a Gentleman.

Gent. And't please your Grace, the two great Cardinals

Wait in the Prefence.

Queen. Would they speak with me?
Gent. They will'd me fay fo, Madam.
Queen. Pray their Graces

VOL. V.

D

Το

To come near; what can be their business
With me, a poor weak woman, fall'n from favour?
I do not like their coming. Now I think on't,
They should be good men, their affairs as righteous,
But all hoods make not monks.

Enter the Cardinals Wolfey and Campeius.

Wol. Peace to your Highness!

Queen. Your Graces find me here part of a house-wife, (I would be all) against the worst may happen: What are your pleasures with me, rev'rend lords? Wol. May't please you, noble Madam, to withdraw Into your private chamber; we fhall give you The full caufe of our coming.

Queen. Speak it here.

There's nothing I have done yet, o'my confcience,
Deferves a corner; would, all other women
Could speak this with as free a foul as I do!
My lords, I care not (fo much I am happy
Above a number) if my actions

Were try'd by ev'ry tongue, ev'ry eye saw 'em ;
Envy and bafe opinion fet against 'em;

I know my life fo even. If your bufinefs
Do feek me out, and that way I am wise in,
Out with it boldly: truth loves open dealing.

Wol. Tanta eft ergà te mentis integritas, Regina Sereniffima,

Queen. O, good my lord, no Latin;.

I am not fuch a truant fince my coming,

As not to know the language I have liv'd in.

[ous:

A ftrange tongue makes my caufe more ftrange, fufpici-
Pray, fpeak in English; here are fome will thank you,
If you fpeak truth, for their poor mistress' fake.
Believe me, fhe has had much wrong. Lord Cardinal,
The willing'ft fin I ever yet committed,

May be abfolv'd in English.

Wol. Noble lady,

I'm forry my Integrity fhould breed
(And Service to his Majefty and you)

So deep fufpicion, where all faith was meant.

We come not by the way of accufation

To taint that honour, every good tongue bleffès;
Nor to betray you any way to forrow;

You have too much, good lady: but to know
How you stand minded in the weighty difference.
Between the King and you and to deliver,
Like free and honeft men, our juft opinions
And comforts to your caufe.

Cam. Moft honour'd madam,

My lord of York, out of his noble nature,
Zeal and obedience he ftill bore your Grace,
Forgetting, like a good man, your late cenfure
Both of his truth and him; (which was too far)
Offers, as I do, in a fign of peace
His fervice and his counsel.

Queen. To betray me.

My lords, I thank you Both for your good wills,
Ye fpeak like honeft men; pray God, ye prove fo!
But how to make ye fuddenly an answer

In fuch a point of weight, fo near mine honour,
(More near my life, I fear,) with my weak wit,
And to fuch men of gravity and learning,
In truth, I know not. I was fet at work
Among my maids; full little, God knows, looking
Either for fuch men, or fuch business.

For her fake that I have been, (for I feel

The last fit of my Greatnefs) good your Graces,

Let me have time and council for my caufe:

Alas! I am a woman, friendless, hopeless.

Wol. Madam, you wrong the King's love with those

Your hopes and friends are infinite.

Queen. In England,

But little for my profit: can you think, lords,

That any English man dare give me counsel?

Or be a known friend 'gainft his Highnefs' pleasure,
(Though he be grown fo defp'rate to be honest,)
And live a fubject? nay, forfooth, my friends
They, that muft weigh out my afflictions,
They, that my truft muft grow to, live not here;
They are, as all my comforts are, far hence,

[fears;

In my own country, Lords.

Cam. I would, your Grace

Would leave your griefs, and take my

counsel.

Queen. How, Sir?

Cam. Put your main caufe into the King's protection; He's loving and moft gracious. 'Twill be much

Both for your honour better, and your caufe:

For if the tryal of the law o'er-take ye,

You'll part away difgrac'd.

Wol. He tells you rightly.

Queen. Ye tell me what ye wish for Both, my ruin : Is this your christian counsel? out upon ye!

Heav'n is above all yet; there fits a Judge,

That no King can corrupt.

Cam. Your rage mistakes us.

Queen. The more fhame for ye; holy men I thought ye, Upon my foul, two rev'rend Cardinal virtues;

But Cardinal fins, and hollow hearts, I fear ye: 'Mend 'em for fhame, my lords: is this your comfort? The cordial, that ye bring a wretched lady?

A woman loft among ye, laugh'd at, fcorn'd?

I will not wifh ye half my miferies,

I have more charity. But fay, I warn'd ye;

Take heed, take heed, for heavn's fake, left at once.
The burthen of my forrows fall upon ye.
Wol. Madam, this is a meer diftraction;

You turn the good we offer into envy.

Queen. Ye turn me into nothing. Wo upon ye, And all Such falfe profeffors! Would

(If you have any juftice, any pity,

you have me

If ye be any thing, but churchmens habits)
Put my fick cause into his hands that hates me?
Alas, h'as banish'd me his bed already;

His love, too long ago. I'm old, my lords;
And all the fellowship I hold now with him
Is only my obedience. What can happen

To me, above this wretchednefs? all your ftudies
Make me a curfe, like this!,

Cam. Your fears are worfe

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Queen. Have I liv'd thus long (let me fpeak my felf,